LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 











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POEMS 



BY y" 
OLIVER ELLSWORTH DAGGETT, D.D. 




NEW YORK : 
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY, 

900 BROADWAY, COR. 20th ST. 



f.^ 



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COPYRIGHT, 1880, BY 

A. D. F. Randolph' & Co. 



E. O. JENKINS' PRINT, 

20 N.William St., N.Y. 



// 7nay be of interest to the 7'eade?'s of these Verses to 
know that, with four exceptions^ they were luritten 
within two years of the Author s death. 

Hartford, Conn., Bee, 1880. 



TO 

HIS PEOPLE IN CANANDAIGUA 



HE MINISTERED IN THE GOSPEL FOR NEARLY THREE AND 
TWENTY YEARS, 



HIS MANY FRIENDS ELSEWHERE, THESE VERSES ARE INSCRIBED 
BY THE FAMILY OF THE 



^utl)or. 



CONTENTS. 











PAGE 


Let us Pray 7 


In Memoriam— I. (There is a natural body) 




11 


In Memorial— II. (There is a spiritual body) 




13 


" He Lifted up His Eyes " . 




16 


Lights .... 








18 


Eulogies . 










20 


Ruth 










23 


Birthday Lines 










26 


Faith (sonnet) . 










29 


Eyes 










30 


The Faithful Saying 










36 


Doubts 










39 


Lines on Mrs. Sykes 










41 


Our Sires and Our Stars (i86i) 






46 


John the Baptist Redivivus 






49 


A Dream 






53 


Change 






58 


The New Earth . 










60 



LET US PRAY. 

/^NE Sunday morning, I remember well, 

The people gathered at the accustomed 
bell 
That tolled its last ; the organ's plaintive close 
Left us expectant ; when the pastor rose, 
As if his lifted hand had gentle sway, 
All heads were bowed as he said, ''Let us pray! 

The prayer, the hymn, the sermon I forget. 
But these three words have lingered with me yet ; 
Though but the '' bidding prayer " of ancient 

phrase. 
And grown familiar in all later days, 



8 Let tis Pray. 

Yet in itself a prayer just taking wing, 

As when a psalm begins, '' Come, let us sing ; " 

A sacred formula — a charm to rest 

The weary or to soothe the troubled breast ; 

Nor less in holy wars a banner-cry 

Of saints in arms ; a signal to the sky 

From earthly voyagers on their erring way 

Or tempest-tossed, all saying, ''Let us pray!' 

I think of nothing better said or done 
When man and woman come to be made one, 
Or when a child that God has lately given 
Is set apart again to God and heaven. 
While round them throng the wishes, hopes 

and fears 
That scan the future, even the eternal years ; 
When kindred minister with muffled tread 
And gentle hands around a sufferer's bed, 
Or listen, as they watch the mortal strife, 
To fainter footfalls of receding life ; 



Let us Pray. 9 

Or from a home bereaved the mourners come 
Bearing their treasure to its latest home : 
In all the deeps of life what shall we say, 
Or on its heights, but ever, ''Let us pray " ? 

Nor yet in our tumultuous woe alone, 

Or helpless need, the call to prayer we own : 

In outward calm, what if we feel within 

The unrest of doubt, infirmity, or sin? 

With cares of business or of home perplexed, 

Or only by untoward trifles vexed, 

If ours the turbulent or feeble will, 

Whate'er our yoke, we chafe against it still ; 

Distempered thought breeds phantasies and 

fears, 
As in the driest air the dew appears 
On the chilled chalice ; we may stand aghast 
At the mere shadows we ourselves do cast ; 
The nerves rebel, the passions rage or pine. 
Till the poor soul, as through the fumes of wine, 



lo Let us Pj^ay. 

Sees things awry as in disjointed dreams, 
And doubts if anything is as it seems ; 
Or sudden memories weigh the spirit down, 
Or conscience darkens to a pitying frown : 
In the night watches, or the weary day, 
Who would not heed the summons, ^^Let us 
pray''? 

But sometimes skies and homes and hearts are 

bright. 
Sleep is all rest and even labor light. 
All sounds make music, every wind blows fair, 
A sweet content we breathe as native air, 
Loving and lovely friends our life renew, 
The heaven we hope for lies about us too : 
Who would not sing for thankfulness to-day ? 
But prayer and praise are one — so, '^ Let us 

prayT 



IN ME MORI AM. — I. 

" There is a natural body." 

XMMORTAL is my friend, I know : 

Not sumnaer's turf nor winter's snow 
Nor depth of earth could turn to nought 
So much of hfe and love and thought. 

And yet that form I did intrust 
To kindred earth, the dust to dust, 
And thither still my thoughts will tend 
As if to find my vanished friend. 

Sacred the robe, the faded glove, 
Once worn by one we used to love ; 



12 In Memoriam. — /. 

Dead warriors in their armor live, 
And in their relics saints survive. 

And there I tenderly laid down 
The hands that fondly clasped my own,- 
The eyes that knew and answered mine 
With many a meaning, loving sign, — 

The lips, familiar with my name. 
That freely called me and I came, — 
The breast that harbored all good-will, 
The loving heart now cold and still. 

Oh, sheltering Earth, henceforth defend 
All thou hast garnered of my friend 
Against the wintry tempest's beat, 
Against the summer's scorching heat. 

Within thine all-embracing breast 
Is hid one more forsaken nest. 
While in the sky, with folded wings. 
The bird that left it sits and sings. 



IN ME MORI AM. — II. 

" There is a spiritual body." 

/^ FRIEND unseen, of whom I sung 

A simple strain with faltering tongue, 
When thou hadst vanished from my view, 
As beckoning thee one more adieu, 

I know thou art, yet know not where, 
Though '' earth to earth," thou art not there 
I know thou art, and art at rest 
In some fair region of the blest. 

What if, as sages guess, that sphere 
Be not to us remote, but near, 



14 In Memorzam. — //. 

And thou hast waked as from a dream 
Where things of sense but shadows seem ? 

Enough that thou in that abode 
Art with the Holy One of God, 
Who called it Paradise, and led 
The way that His disciples tread. 

Thee shall I yet again behold, 
And know thee as I knew of old. 
Yet not, as in that vision fled, 
'^ Of the earth earthy," dying, dead ; 

Nor yet a viewless spirit bare. 

Or naked phantom of the air ; 

In thine own form which He shall give, 

Like His transfigured, shalt thou live. 

'' Stars " in their several splendors shine. 
And surely thou wilt rise in thine ; 



hi Memoriam. — //. 15 

Though '' sown in weakness," — ^' raised in 

power " 
The seed shall bear its perfect flower. 

" Dishonor " now, but " glory '* when 
The dead in Christ shall live again ; 
I see beyond the garnered dust 
The convocation of the just. 

Thy way, thy end be mine : I bow 
In the dim light that shineth now, 
And go that way with prayer and song 
Till then — '' how long, O Lord, how long ? " 

I would my fellowship with thee, 
As with thy Lord and mine, may be 
Like His own years that have no end. 
My mortal yet immortal friend. 



"HE LIFTED UP HIS EYES." 
Luke vi. 20. 

/^H, eyes that lifted from her breast 

Did on the Virgin Mother's rest ; 
That Simeon and the magi saw ; 
That questioned teachers of the law ; 
That on the mountain vigils kept, 
And at the grave of Lazarus wept ; 
That frowned on pride and greed, yet bent 
To cheer the outcast penitent, 
And looked on Peter in the hall 
Till bitterly he wept his fall : 
Oh, anguished eyes that on the tree 
Quailed not at shame and agony, 



^' He lifted tip His eyes^ 17 

But through the mist of death did win 
The guilty sufferer from his sin ; 
That solaced friends amidst their woes, 
And looked to heaven for taunting foes ; 
That in the tomb all sightless lay, 
But saw again on Easter day, 
And when escaped the tomb's eclipse, 
*' Rabboni ! " drew from Mary's lips ; 
That loving, wondering followers met, 
And last looked down on Olivet : 
Oh, eyes that from the '' great white throne " 
Shall all survey, by all be known ; 
Us, too, in pity now behold 
As erring wayward ones of old ; 
Or from the throne, or from the cross 
Our hardness melt, consume our dross ; 
Illumine our uplifted eyes, 
And light our passage to the skies. 
2 



LIGHTS. 

I am the light of the world. Ye are the light of the 
world. He was a burning and a shining light. Among 
whom ye shine as lights in the world." 

XNTENSE and pure the whiteness lay, 

As 'twere the sudden glare of day, 
Along the wall suffused and bright 
With radiance of electric light ; 

And candle-flames that rose between 
Cast only shadows on the scene, 
As if their light were but a shade 
Upon the brighter lustre laid : 



Lights, 1 9 

Which when I saw, the chemist's art 
Taught a sweet lesson to my heart : 
For even so, Lord Christ, in Thee 
The pure white '' h'ght of light " we see : 

And while abroad the radiance streams. 
If Thy disciples' duller beams 
Look dim and dusky, still they shine 
With light that is akin to Thine ; 

Nor would I wonder or complain 
As if their ministry were vain. 
But with them worship Thee, and say, 
THOU art more luminous than they. 



EULOGIES. 

^T^HERE lay a man of worth and service 

rare 
Shrouded and coffined in the house of prayer, 
And Christian ministers their tributes paid, 
Sincere and generous, to the honored dead. 

But one, the wisest, paying his in turn. 
Added a lesson it were well to learn : — ■ 
'' I would the kindly words now spoken here 
Were heard by him who lies upon the bier ; 

" And better still, that he had heard them when, 
A modest man among the crowd of men. 



Eulogies, 2 1 

Weary or sad sometimes, baffled or tried, 
Disheartened even, wronged, perhaps decried, 

^' Faithful he toiled on his allotted way, 
And patient bore the burden o{ his day : 
It would have cheered his inmost soul to 

know 
These honored brethren loved and prized 

him so ! 

'' Ah, why not oftener on the living shed 
The fragrance lavished on the unheeding dead ? 
Who needs not ministries of strength and 

cheer ? 
Respect, good-will, and sympathy are dear 

'' In giving and receiving, nor are meant 
To be reserved, but rather freely spent ; 
The wayside strain of kindness to a friend 
Excels the dirge that only chants his end." 



2 2 Eulogies. 

Thanks for the lesson. Heed it ye who hold 
For every fault your function is to scold 
Children and servants, yet from praise refrain 
When most deserved, '' lest it should make 
them vain." 

Praise to whom praise is due : pass on the rule 
To office, shop and field, to home and school. 
None are so lofty they can never need, 
And none so low they can not earn the meed. 

In every sphere of faithful service done 
Thanks, and not pence alone, are fairly won : 
In generous courtesy is found an oil 
To smooth the wheels and bands of daily toil. 

Out of the heart's abundance let some cheer 
Be spoken while your friend hath ears to hear ; 
Deck, if you will, with flowers his place of rest. 
But fix the sweetest on his living breast. 



RUTH.* 

T30SE of Moab, sweet and fair, 
Blooming in thy native air, 
Yet transplanted in thy prime 
Into Israel's foreign clime ; 
Widowed in thy winsome youth. 
Loyal Moabitess, Ruth, 
Centuries of sacred fame 
Shrine for us thy blessed name. 

Matronly Naomi, thou 

Heard'st her sweetly solemn vow, 



* Suggested by the sermon preached in the Park Church, 
Hartford, Conn., Sunday evening, Jan. 25, 1880, in which 
the name was happily referred to as originally signifying 
Rose, 



24 Rtith, 

When to thee she closely clave, 
Journey, lodging, altar, grave. 
All with thee to share, and be 
Loyal daughter unto thee — 
Widowed souls entwined, the two, 
Each to each and Israel true. 

Boaz, rich and kind and strong, 
Bethlehem's reapers chief among. 
Once the modest gleaner seen 
Wisely thou thyself did'st glean. 
Ending thus the kinsman's quest, 
Moab's rose upon thy breast ; 
Israelite indeed, thou art 
Blessed in thy house and heart. 

Lo, the rose on Israel's stem 
Grafted thus in Bethlehem — 
In its latest, ripest fruit, 
David's offspring, David's root — 



Ruth, 

Flowered divine on earth, to rise 
Perfected to Paradise, 
There and here henceforth adored, 
David's Son and David's Lord. 



BIRTHDAY LINES 

To an invalid friend who had said, " Your presence is rest- 
ful."— Dec. 29, 1S78. 

^^ "pESTFUL"am I? It were well 
Thus to use so rare a spell, 
Soothing many a winter eve, 
And a tranquil blessing leave. 
Brings the date some need of cheer 
With the waning of the year, 
Like the wayworn pilgrim's quest 
Toward the nightfall for his rest ? 
Yet before my partial sight. 
Prematurely " clothed in white, ' 
Whiling evening hours away 
With a story or a lay, 



Birthday Lines. 27 

You, whom first I learned to know 
Over two score years ago, 
Scarce the wonted tokens bear : 
Time and grief and pain and care 
Have not yet the forehead fair 
Furrowed, nor despoiled the eye 
Of its old benignity, 
Nor the voice untuned or stilled, 
Nor the genial temper chilled. 
So you cheer the eventide 
When a friend is by your side ; 
So I get the boon I give — 
You bestow what you receive ; 
Restful if I am to you, 
You to 7ne are restful too. 
So, it seems, 'tis well attested 
When we meet that both are rested. 
Aged friends are we to-day, 
Pilgrims well upon our way ; 



28 Birthday Lines. 

Sometimes weary both, In need 
Of another '' Friend indeed," 
Whom from us no time can sever, 
Yesterday, to-day, or ever. 
So we pray at eventide, 
Saying, " Friend, with us abide ;" 
And He answers our request. 
Saying, '' I will give you rest." 



FAITH. 

~r O islanded upon the troubled sea, 

A sea of clouds, a bare but sunny rock, 
As it were anchored fast, abides to mock 
The surging mists that fret incessantly 
Its shapeless sides. It is a mountain head. 
And there a lordly eagle folds his wings 
Proudly apart from men and living things. 
That sea of clouds in the clear sunlight spread 
Beneath him heaves and sparkles to his sight. 
Yet frowns in sullen gloom on such as go 
Creeping along earth's grovelling paths below 
And can not see the arching heaven of light. 
So darkest clouds will brighten to the eye 
Of faith above them poised, and nearer to 
the sky. 



EYES. 

TDESIDE my bed, when I was young, 

A grave ancestral portrait hung. 
And well I knew, when I awoke. 
That ancient face as if it spoke. 
When first one morning with surprise 
I noticed that those painted eyes 
Looked into mine, I turned away, 
But presently from where I lay. 
Stealing another glance, I met 
Those eyes, unwinking, on me yet. 
Then all about the bed I slid, 
If so perchance I might be hid, 
And yet wherever was my head. 
At top or bottom of the bed. 



Eyes, 3 ^ 

On either side, or in the air, 

The eyes still gazed directly there. 

In vain I drew the sheet about 

My own to shut the vision out, 

Or nestled in the cosiest nook 

To tire and turn that steady look : 

If I but peeped it was to see 

The portrait staring straight at me. 

A sort of prickly shudder came 

And went through all my little frame, 

Yet on those eyes my own would dwell. 

Till only breakfast broke the spell. 

Twas but a painter's common skill, 

By simple touches at his will, 

To make the self-same portrait eye 

The looker-on so steadily. 

Or gaze at something else afar. 

Or nothing in particular. 

A bit of pigment rightly laid 

On canvas all the difference made. 



3 2 Eyes, 

But hence has grown a later thought : 

If the mere semblance so has wrought, 

What may the living organ do, 

With thought and feeling shining through, 

Leveled as with the steady aim 

Of marksman fixed upon his game ? 

A hunter's eye can keep at bay, 

'Tis said, the fiercest beast of prey ; 

Imperial eyes in awe have held 

As savage men, and tumults quelled ; 

Guilt stands abashed before the eyes 

That seem to pierce through all disguise ; 

Rollicking eyes the pulses stir 

Like sounds of dance and dulcimer ; 

The pensive haunt us like a strain 

Of music we would hear again ; 

Weird eyes there are that have a spell 

At once to lure us and repel. 

Embrasures all through which wx hail 

Each other, or perchance assail ; 



Eyes. 33 

Whence nature darts her signal rays, 

And light, and sometimes lightning plays. 

'Twould seem a mystic current flows 

Through airy circuits nature knows 

From eye to eye. Who has not heard 

How helpless yields the unwary bird, 

As if transfixed by vital rays. 

Before the serpent's glittering gaze ? 

And does not Holy Scripture tell 

How Eve, yet more unv/ary, fell 

By a like tempter's subtler art. 

Whose eyes, we doubt not, played their part ? 

Then on her lord she used her own. 

As her fair daughters since have done, 

Whose ambushed orbs of hazel, blue, 

Or gray, or ever varying hue. 

Opening their fringed lids do ply 

The arrows of love's archery, 

While her most w^ary sons are slain 

To live a charmed life again. 



34 Eyes, 

Who that has felt through every sense 
The thrill of famous eloquence, 
Would veil the eyes with rage that burn, 
Or melt with tenderness in turn, 
Sparkle with glee, or beam with thought 
From heights of contemplation brought — 
A reverent wisdom such as shone 
In him who talked with God alone. 
The charm we own and would not break ; 
Our steadfast eyes responses make. 
* The orator himself receives 
The subtle impulses he gives : 
With eyes enkindled and intent 
The listener too is eloquent. 

And graver, better thoughts have sprung 
From what I saw when I was young. 
If the mere mimic look beguiled 
To restlessness the waking child, 
What of that vision which enspheres 
These lives of ours through all their years ? 



Eyes, 

Himself unseen, yet ever nigh, 
Shall not He see who formed the eye ? 
Not darkness hides us, but the night, 
As the day shineth in his sight. 
Nor let us restless choose to shun 
The all-seeing, ever-seeing One, 
But rather in our utmost awe 
Only the nearer to Him draw, 
And, though our waiting eyes be dim, 
Learn we to live as seeing Him. 



THE FAITHFUL SAYING. 
T Tim. i. 15. 

The sentence thus cited as "a faithful saying," is sup- 
posed by some interpreters to have been one of those made 
familiar by liturgical use in the primitive Christian assem- 
blies. 

T"N the singing and the praying 

Of the ancient congregation, 

There was heard the faithful saying, 

Worthy of all acceptation, — 

Christ Himself for sinners gave, — 

Sinners Jesus came to save. 

'Twas believed with thankful wonder ; 
Harlots listened and repented, 



The Faithful Saying, 2>7 

Publicans restored their plunder, 

Even Pharisees relented, 
Roman soldiers learned to pray, 
Caesar's household felt its sway. 



One upon a hostile mission 

Heard and saw, and fell confounded, 
Gave up all his proud ambition, 

And the praise of Jesus sounded : 
So the love that conquered Saul 
Fired henceforth the heart of Paul. 

Ever proved the saying surer 

As the more they ventured on it. 

Growing stronger, kinder, purer, — 
Losing even life they won it : 

Faithful was the word that fed 

Hungry souls with living bread. 



The Faithful Saying, 

Multiplied in hallowed pages, 

Breathed in psalms and supplications, 
Borne to us through all the ages, 

Spread abroad through all the nations, 
Faithful to the faithful still. 
Lord, in US the word fulfill. 



DOUBTS. 

Goethe is reported to have said : — " Give me the benefit of 
your convictions, if you have any, but keep your doubts to 
yourself, for I have enough of my own." 

"DRAY tell me not of doubt on doubt, 

As if it were good news you brought, 
Some secret worth the finding out, 
Or exploit of adventurous thought. 

I, too, could question, if I would, 
Of all things I have learned to love, 

And fain would answer if I could 
For earth below and heaven above. 



40 Doubts, 

But not by questionings I grow, ^ 
Nor halt and turn to mend my gait : 

I live on Yes, and not on No, 

I trust and love, I work and wait. 

O Life and Light incarnate, still 
Shine on o'er every troubled sea : 

Thou pole-star of my thought and will 
I doubt not Thee, I doubt not Thee 



LINES 

UPON HEARING OF THE DEATH OF MRS. GEORGIANA M. 
SYKES, APRIL 12, 1857. 

i^HILD of genius, child of song! 

Not to us thy gifts belong : 
God endowed thee, and His own 
God hath taken to His throne. 
Spirit, wonderfully made ! 
Spirit, longer hast thou stayed 
In the frail and shattered tent 
That was here thy tenement, — 
Longer hast thou stayed than we 
Dared predict or ask for thee : 



42 Lines. 

We, who knew the ceaseless strife 
Death has waged in thee with Hfe ; 
We, who saw thy house of dust 
Shaken by each passing gust, 
Saw thee plumed as for the skies — 
Laden with infirmities. 

Winged thoughts were thine that strove 

Upward, like the bird of Jove ; 

Yet how often, baffled fell, 

As, before the tempest's swell. 

Wavering, with ruffled breast. 

Sinks the bird into his nest. 

Thine the subtle, fairy fancy. 

As with spell of necromancy 

Things of mystic shape and hue 

Summoning to sudden view ; 

Like a lambent flame, ascending 

Still, though still with damps contending 

Gilding many a clouded day 

With some unexpected ray. 



Lines. 43 

Gleaming brighter to our eye 
For its fitful victory. 

Dearer than the grace of mind, 

Nimble wit, or thought refined, 

Was thy heart, so pure and kind ; 

True in friendship, warm in love, 

Tempered rightly from above 

To withstand all earthly chills, 

To endure all human ills. 

Thou, through every changing scene, 

Constant to thy faith hast been ; 

Patient in thy sharp distress, 

Cheerful in thy weariness ; 

Making luminous thy way 

When the clouds shut out the day ; 

Keeping, many an irksome night. 

Trimmed thy lamp of hope, and bright ; 

Clinging like a child to God 

When beneath His chastening rod. 



44 Lines, 

Whatsoever ill has tried thee, 

Health and strength and^ease denied thee, 

All things only purified thee. 

Bearing burdens all thine own, 

Thou hast borne not these alone ; 

Making others still thy care, 

Thou hast taught them how to bear 

Every load, and made them strong 

With thy counsel, prayer, and^song. 

Meet it is that thou should'st sleep. 
No more irksome vigils keep. 
Feel no more a throb of pain, 
Faint not, weary not again. 
Meet it is that thou should'st rest 
On thy loving Saviour's breast, 
In thy Father's house on high. 
With the kindred company ; 
One seraphic spirit more 
Joining all who went before ; 



Lines. 45 

One more harper in the skies — 
Thou at home in Paradise ! 

Thou, who art so still in death, 
Thou hast woven many a wreath 
For the loved and sainted dead : 
Fairer garlands crown thy head, 
While thine own their fragrance shed 
Through thy silent earthly home. 
And about thy peaceful tomb. 
We no equal tribute bring. 
Yet, unbidden do we sing — 
God endowed thee, and His own 
God hath taken to His throne ! 



OUR SIKES AND OUR STARS 

May 24, 1861. 

T" COUNT the clustered stars by night, 

And think of sleepers in the dust, 
Who walked and worshiped in their light, 

The fair, the brave, the wise, the just : 
What now if tempests vex the air, 

Or portents blaze athwart the sky. 
They rest apart from fear or care, 

Whose lot has been, ere this, to die. 

I count my country's stars by day, — 
The old thirteen that in the dawn 



Our Sires a7id Our Stars, 47 

Together sang our freedom's lay, 

And later orbs that crowned the morn : 

And I bethink me of the dead 

Who reared, or loved, this spangled dome ; 

The sires who thought and strove and bled. 
Their sons who here have found a home. 



They rest in peace ! Not theirs the shame 

Or grief, to-day, to see one star 
In maddened flight, with lurid flame, 

Shoot from its primal sphere afar. 
And sister stars in league astray 

Bedimmed and stained, with flickering fire. 
Or reeling on their fitful way 

With lowering clouds and tumult dire. 

O God of order, freedom, right ! 

Thy cause maintain. Thy servants own : 
In darkness say, ^' Let there be light ; " 

The ancient law and faith enthrone : 



48 Our Sires and Our Stars, 

Quench treason's fire and faction's rage, 
Our injured banner rear on high ; 

Redeem from shame our heritage, — 
Be Thou the Day-star in our sky I 



JOHN THE BAPTIST REDIVIVUS. 

Luke iii. 10-14. 

TT happened, or I dreamed, that John 

The Baptist visited our town, 
And up and down our streets he went 
With his old ringing cry, ^' Repent ! " 

A man so strong and bold and queer 
All sorts of people flocked to hear. 
And fast as usual comments fell 
From gaping clown and oracle. 

Some sagely thought his leather dress 
More proper for the wilderness ; 



50 Jolm the Baptist Redivtvus. 

And some had heard, and thought it funny, 
'' He lived on locust meat and honey." 

But soon the people grew intent 
As wondering what such preaching meant ; 
And one, and then another, guessed 
'Twas meant for him among the rest ; 

For every word the prophet said 
He hit some nail upon the head ; 
And many a hearer, as he spoke, 
Did seem to quail beneath the stroke. 

Each questioner a lesson got : 

The tailor, — '' See you cabbage not ; " 

'' Save food and fuel," to the cook. 

And to the housemaid, '' Dust the nook." 

Some men of business felt a shock 
When he discoursed of '' damaged stock," 



John the Baptist Redivivus. 51 

Of " corners," and of '' watered shares," 
Of " bogus mines," and '' bulls and bears." 

Masons and carpenters should '' see 
That estimates and bills agree ; " 
'' Do well the work that lies unseen, 
Nor mix with seasoned lumber green." 

" Doctors, beware of cure or kill ; 
Detract not from each other's skill ; 
Your visits healthful tonics make, 
Nor give the dose you would not take." 

'' Ye lawyers, scorn with artful talk 
To shelter rogues and justice balk ; 
Nor term-fees swell, nor strife foment, 
But help the poor and innocent." 

*' Your sacred function, ye who preach, 
Is not to tickle, but to teach ; 



52 yohn the Baptist Rediviznts, 

Care more to profit than to please, 
More for the flock than for the fleece." 



Drummers and pedlars, gossips fair, 
Tonguey exhorters, all were there. 
And to their questions clearly rung 
His answer, '' Bridle ye the tongue." 

But when, attracted by his fame. 
Plumbers and politicians came. 
The prophet looked, and paused, and then — 
Betook him to the woods again. 



A DREAM. 

.... When our minds, more wanderers from the flesh 
And less by thought restrained, are as 'twere full 
Of holy divination in their dreams. 

Carey's Dante, Ptirg. Canto g. 

"XTOTHING would I despise, nothing forget, 
Of goodness or of beauty once revealed, 
Whether in outward form incarnate seen 
By waking sense, or to my waking thought 
Shown in a phantom. Though I only dream. 
The goodness and the beauty I will hold 
Not more unreal than the dreaming mind ; 
And all the love and the delightsome awe 
That in my heart attend them, are a pledge 



54 ^ D 7' earn. 

Of their true presence, as content assures 
Him that was hungry of a timely meal. 
Not all the outward world beneath the heavens 
Can a more perfect loveliness disclose 
Than our own inner world by Him imprinted, 
Of whom, as day to day is uttering speech. 
So night to night shows knowledge. 

I remember 
A dream of boyhood I would fain renew. 
Which yet no wish nor spell of later years 
Can summon back, nor words nor colors paint. 
If now, with reverent, unambitious aim 
I may to friendly eyes some glimpse afford 
Of that dear vision, I essay no more. 

I fell asleep while yet I seemed awake, 
(So lightly dwelt my spirit in its frame, 
So lightly pressed my frame upon the bed). 
In the first chamber that I called my own 
Beneath my father's roof. There at my feet 



A Dream. 55 

A closet stood where sometimes prayer was 

made. 
A sudden jarring sound fell on my ear, 
As of the door sprung open, and I turned 
Thither, or seemed to turn, with open eyes. 
Forth from the threshold one advanced with 

step 
Stately, yet gentle, as if wafted on. 
Like a white-bosom'd cloud, by upper airs. 
A rustling robe I heard, yet was he clothed 
With light that seemed in thick and wavy folds 
Momently falling off and still renewed, — 
As once of old a fabled goddess rose 
Mantled and crested with the foaming sea, — 
Or as, beneath the wintry sun, the snow 
New fallen some fair sculptured form invests 
With emulous wreaths, fold answering to fold. 
I lay unnoticed, heard no voice, yet felt 
A summons on me, as we mark the hour 
Not knowing why, and sliding from my couch 



56 A Dream, 

Knelt in his path. Scarce did I raise my eyes 

To meet his own for sudden awe, nor since 

Can I recall a semblance of his face, 

Save as in broken gleams of starry light. 

Charged with a woman's tenderness it seemed, 

Yet of heroic majesty withal ; 

Intense, yet calm, as holy martyrs are 

When death is victory, the celestial bow 

O'erarching earthly sorrow ere 'tis past. 

As drawn to him I rose, to me he bent 

With outstretched arms, and in his robe of light 

I seemed to be enfolded, feeling still 

No outward touch. And then — one moment 

spent 
In a strange tremulous delight — there fell 
Words full of sweetness from his parted lips — 
A benediction uttered in the name 
Of the Lord Jesus ! Ere I could adore, 
The vision fled. 

O thou whom then I saw, 



A Dream. 57 

Forgive me if unworthily I dare 
Thy secret visitation to betray. 
And if, awaking here, I may not see 
The splendors which thy chosen ones beheld 
Oh Tabor's top, yet with thyself unseen 
Communing often in the secret place. 
By night and day, oh, let me still abide 
Beneath thine eye, encircled by thine arms. 
And when through ail the chambers of the dead 
Thy coming sounds, and I shall dream no more, 
Nor sleep — in that new world where is no night. 
Thy ceaseless benediction may I hear. 
And, being like thee, see thee as thou art. 



THE CHANGE. 

"TT^ROM earth to heaven — perchance so great 

a change, 
Perchance so Httle, yet so wondrous strange — 
It stirs the question in a thoughtful mind, 
What take we with us, and what leave behind ? 

I have a friend, a suffering, patient friend, 

Of whom 'tis said that when he meets his end. 

To be an angel in another sphere 

He only needs to leave his asthma here. 

Thanks if the pain or grief, the toil or care, 
We suffer now we need not always bear ; 



The Change. 59 

And warmer thanks if nothing else be found 
With us, that may not pass the mystic bound. 

But what if uncongenial souls there be 

Who even if from earthly burdens free, 

When they at length would go beyond, shall 

find 
Alas, that they must leave themselves behind ! 



THE NEW EARTH. 

npHERE never was a land so fair 

As that our Father will prepare 
For those who here in patience bear 

And do His will, 
Waiting on Him with song and prayer 

Through good and ill. 

'' A better country," we are told 

By those who sought and sung of old, 

And yet 'tis not its streets of gold. 

Nor jeweled wall. 
Nor gates of pearl I would behold, 

If these were all. 



The New Earth. 6t 

'Twill be the same old earth, but new ; 
With fruits and flowers of every hue, 
Groves such as once in Eden grew, 

Valleys and hills, 
Sunshine and balmy air and dew, 

And purest rills. 

And dear old melodies, as here, 
Will fall upon the listening ear. 
And human voices sweet and clear 

Be heard again. 
And dear old friends with hearty cheer 

Will greet us then. 

And One I have not seen, yet know. 
Whose words and acts have charmed me so 
It would be Heaven where'er I go 

His face to see, 
His voice to hear, — Himself will show 

And talk with me. 



62 The New Eai^th. 

There to be His immortal guest, 
And go and come at His behest, 
And in His presence work and rest 

Whom I adore, 
Will make the " better country " best : 

I ask no more. 




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